


they speak franch in france

by angelboygabriel



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Babe and Julian are ignorant Americans with good intentions, Croissants, France - Freeform, French, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, fast friends, flirty!roe, these hooligans are college aged, what the fuck is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 12:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12276957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: Babe Heffron struggles with languages, Eugene Roe is a flirt, and John Julian just wants a croissant.Follows the prompt "We met on vacation in a foreign country and bonded over our shitty grasp of the native language"... slightly.





	they speak franch in france

**Author's Note:**

> Where was I going with this? Genuinely no idea. I have a concerning stack of unfinished fics that are based on my thing for making my favorite characters struggle with French. just like me.
> 
> Also, to any French readers, I don't mean any offense to you at all! My friend Alise (she's from Cannes) happened to quite enjoy this but to be sure please know this is all in jest!
> 
> all translation errors are mine and Google Translate's. see End Notes for those!
> 
>  
> 
> as usual, no disrespect intended towards the real life vets! based purely on the HBO portrayals.

 

  
Don't get confused, Julian loved France, but Paris was downright confusing. It was his first time in a foreign country and he had _stupidly_ thought he could handle it all by himself, but he was wrong.

So, so wrong.

While his grades for French 5 in college suggested he was very proficient, getting tossed in head first was a whole other ballpark. It was the end of the day and he was exhausted and confused and just wanted a fucking croissant, but he didn't even know where he was and couldn't well ask for directions because his brain just wasn't gonna compute anything more complex than “je m’appelle Julian.” Blissfully, this small district was fairly deserted so he headed for the storefront of the nearest cafe and stepped inside.

It was empty save two people behind the counter and one man ordering, and the man squinting at the bakery display with a shock of burnt copper hair looked quite frustrated while the man behind the counter with striking blue eyes and raven hair watched with the weird resting bitchface many French people seemed to have. A woman with honey-colored hair was watching from the kitchen area.

“...oh, fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna kill Bill, not the movie, ‘you'll be fine in France’ my ass…making a fool of myself in front of hot French guys, wonderful… uh, Puis-je avoir un… that chocolate thing? S’il… vous plaît?” the redhead grumbled and Julian’s head shot up. Finally, someone else who was struggling with all the nasally noises and quirks this language has.

“You speak English?” he hesitantly asked and three heads snapped over to where he had been standing unnoticed.

“Ha, shit, am I ever glad to hear you!” He said nervously. For some reason, the man behind the counter found this incredibly funny.

“Babe Heffron.” He introduced, extending his hand. Julian grasped it and grinned.

“John Julian, but I just go by Julian.”

“M’ Eugene Roe.” the man behind the counter said and Babe’s head whipped around.

“So you do know English!” he accused and Eugene nodded bemusedly.

“Your French is very cute. I liked hearin’ you try.” he said in a silky accent. Julian raised his eyebrows as Babe flushed bright red.

“I may have only just met you, but I think he's flirting with you. Saying you’re cute is an international ‘hey, hit me up’ signal.” Julian supplied helpfully and Eugene pointed at him and nodded.

In a surprising turn of events, Babe was able to vocalize one phrase in almost perfect French.

“Quad êtes-vous libre?” Babe immediately asked and Eugene’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit forward, but then again aren’t most Americans? But… À présent.” he smirked. Babe started grinning too, but before Eugene could walk out from behind the counter, Julian stopped him.

“Attendez, my man! I want a croissant before you go out with my new friend here!” Julian demanded and Eugene slapped the display case.

“Je suis désolé! Quelle- what can I get you today?” he asked sheepishly and Julian dug out his wallet.

“Un croissant.” he said proudly and Babe rolled his eyes.

“You could be Canadian and say that perfectly. But, um, me too, y mi, whatever the fuck it is.” Babe tacked on. “Canadians don't even know the language.”

“Most Canadians literally ARE French!” Julian said and Babe blinked.

“Are you kidding me?” he said after a heartbeat and Eugene looked between them.

“Monsieur Babe,’ave you heard of Quebec?” he said slowly and Babe wanted to punch himself.

“I’m in college, my French sucks, and I’m hungry!” he defended, leaving out the self aimed comment about American ignorance.

Eugene handed Julian his croissant.

“Gracias, señ- fuck, wait, that's Spanish.” Julian groaned. “I just want to get back to my hotel and sleep for a day.” he complained and Babe and Eugene offered him sympathetic looks.

“I can help you get back. Renee? Allons nous terminer.” He said to the woman softly and she nodded as he undid his apron and hopped the counter.

Julian take a massive bite out of his croissant and grinned, thankful to finally have one of the delicious pastries.

“Where are you staying?” Eugene asked and Julian gestured vaguely around as the three of them stepped out into the street.

“Le Relais Montmartre.” Julian supplied around his mouthful.

“Hey! I'm staying there too!” Babe exclaimed and Julian brightened up.

“What room?” he asked after swallowing.

“133.”

“Ha, no way! I'm 132, right next door.” Babe replied, and Julian shot a glance between him and Eugene. It took them a second to catch on, and they both groaned in unison at the connotation and Julian laughed delightedly.

“Such a couple that you’re already saying and doing shit at the same time!” he cackled.

“We _just_ met!” Babe said and Julian shoved the other American.

“Yeah, and you already asked him if he's free today, and he already said yes.”

“It is called gettin’ picked up here in France.” Eugene mused.

“Oh my God, Gene.” Babe complained as they turned a street corner.

“Oh, so it’s _Gene_ now?” Julian said gleefully.

“You know, I think we all goin’ to get along very well.” Gene cut in.

Julian was inclined to agree.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your Handy Guide to This Fic's French
> 
>  
> 
> je m’appelle- I call myself/my name is
> 
> Puis-je avoir un- Can I have a...
> 
> S’il vous plaît- Please
> 
> Quad êtes-vous libre?- When are you free?
> 
> À présent- Now
> 
> Attendez- Wait
> 
> Je suis désolé- I am sorry
> 
> Allons nous terminer- literally: Let's finish. In this context, it means to close shop.


End file.
